


The 5 Fs: Fight, Flight, Feed, Freeze, and ... What's the last one?

by MerlinScmerlin



Series: Nothing to Be Worried About Because Heros Are Real [4]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Matt Murdock, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fight Scene, M/M, Multi, Not beta read we die like mxn and womxn, Not sexual violence but perhaps proceed with caution (see notes), Open Relationships, Oral Sex, Plan for multiple scenes though, Steve Rogers is a Service Top, That leads to sexy times, Top Steve Rogers, Unsafe Sex, no cheating here, sorta PWP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerlinScmerlin/pseuds/MerlinScmerlin
Summary: A pwp one-shot that has evolved into a 4(or maybe 5?)+1 series of moments of intimacy between various characters, based on the 5Fs of survival.Part 1: Fight (Steve/Matt)Part 2: Feed (Steve/Darcy)Part 3: TBD (Matt/Steve/Darcy)Part 4: TBD (TBD/TBD)+1: TBDNo prior knowledge of this series necessary to enjoy the content. Drop a comment if there's something specific you'd like to see!
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers/Matt Murdock, Matt Murdock/Steve Rogers
Series: Nothing to Be Worried About Because Heros Are Real [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/372497
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59





	1. A Kiss with a Fist, a Fight then a ...

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 was was an omake partially written out when I first started this series. I needed to funnel my election anxiety somewhere. So, here I go ...
> 
> Also, this is the FIRST explicit work I've ever written. Please be gentle with me! I absolutely welcome (constructive) feedback.
> 
> See End Notes for Warnings.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt Murdock is a sassy, badass, brunette. Which means he is exactly Steve Roger's Type.

Matthew Murdock’s office phone had not rung in close to 10 business days. The only break in the long streak of silence was from Mrs. Gorchev, who had called to make sure Matt had enjoyed the kifla she left as a thank you for helping her write her Will. Matt was not, exactly, waiting for a phone call. Considering the fact that most of their clients were the bang-on-the-door desperate sort, not the call-to-book-an-appointment sort, he was focused on the sound of the bodies zooming back and forth the entrance to the building. Hoping that one of them would break-off and enter the building, and put an end to his boredom.

That day, none of them did. Matt contented himself with spinning lazy circles in his poorly furnished office, wasting time until Foggy was conscious enough to stumble in. Boredom did not suit the Daredevil. Idle hands, devil playgrounds, and all that jazz.

The shrill whine of a Foggy’s desk phone (the only working landline in the entire complex probably) was so unexpected, Matt may or may not have nearly fallen out of his chair.

 _If the Devil falls from the Heavens and no one is around to see him,_ Matt chuckled into the quiet of his mind. For a second, Matt contemplated not answering. _Could be a telemarketer … Or Ms. Gorchev._

Even still, something told him this was a call he wanted to answer.

“Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law,” he enunciated into the phone receiver. "Matthew Murdock speaking."

“Well, hello there, handsome,” came a high, sweet voice. The voice carried a taste of smirking lips and mischievous eyes.

“Ms. Lewis,” he squeaked out, in honest befuddlement. Stumbling to regain his poise, Matt choked on his own voice. “Or rather, Ms. Lewis-Stark.”

“Just Darcy is fine.” Darcy giggled effortlessly. A witch, cackling her delight at poor Hansel being led to his doom. 

“Darcy, then,” he responded, catching his bearings. 

Unconsciously, Matt straightened in his chair and his voice smoothed out into an even register, feigning confidence where there had not been any moments prior. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

“Aww,” Darcy teased. "Are you not happy to hear from me?" One might imagine a princess, loafing on a palanquin, awaiting men to bathe her in sweet perfumes and sweeter berries.

“Hell no!” he stated around a chuckle. Matt began to swing his chair in lazy circles once more, arms of the chair crinkling where they were held together by duct tape and a prayer. It was one their better dumpster treasures. 

Matt held his breath for one sharp beat, before continuing, “The last time we talked, you showed up with a backpack full of cash and punched me in the face. Historically, not a good sign to hear from you.”

“That was only one time!” Darcy rebutted, sass at full levels. “Its not like I’ve made it a habit of knocking you on that fine jaw of yours.”

“Precedence was established, Ms. Darcy,” Matt volleyed back.

“Okay, you’re right,” she grumbled out in obvious reluctance. “Though, in my defense, showing prowess in battle is a well established communication technique. Still, I never apologized for that.”

There was a pregnant pause then. Matt could not be sure if she was taking the moment to actually steel herself to actually say “sorry” or if Darcy was evaluating if he was even receptive to one.

The silence broke not a moment later, when Matt decided to cast her a line.

“Well,” Matt started and then stopped. The cacophony from outside that permeated the stillness of the office that was typical New York, and the din soothed his heightened senses. “I assume you were behind the mysterious grant that we never applied for from the New York City Bar Association. I figured that was enough of an apology.”

“Oh no, that wasn’t an apology gift,” Darcy replied, all traces of contrition gone like smoke. “That was an extra thank you for your legal work for the Avengers Initiative."

Months ago, Darcy had come to Matt for assistance in setting up independent funding and legal agreements for The Avengers Initiative to operate across the globe. All fueled by her recently claimed Stark Inheritance. Since Matt was no expert in international or estate law, he lost many a night to research binges and brief writing. He honestly thought her a fool. But he didn’t object to the goal and they needed the money, so he took the job. After the collapse of SHIELD, he no longer thought her a fool.

“And the mysterious purchase of our building and the generous lease renewal terms?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

“Okay,” Darcy responded. “I guess that can be counted as an apology gift.”

“The ink is still practically wet on your name change to Stark and, yet, I don’t know how anyone could doubt where some of your personality traits come from.”

“I’m not calling to talk about my last name or financial lifestyle choices, Matthew.” The rebuke in Darcy’s voice was light but apparent.

“Well,” he suppressed a slight cough of discomfort. “You still haven’t mentioned why you were calling at all, Darcy.”

“I’m calling you,” her voice smoothed out, decibel by decibel, until it was a purr. “I’m calling to ask if you … ” There was a long, slow pause that filled the silence between them drop by drop, like a Japanese water fountain full of honey. He could hear the faint whisper of her breath against a headset, and a faint buzz in the background like the pressure of electricity in a closed room.

“ _Would you like to grab a drink sometime?_ ” Darcy parroted his own words back to him, in the exact same timber and cocksure attitude he had delivered once before.

Matt swallowed his own spit so loudly and suddenly, he was sure Darcy had heard. He was thankful she did not take the opportunity to laugh at him.

“Oh,” his voice dropped . Something sharp, but a bit discomfited, filled his belly. “I seem to remember a rejection.”

“That's true. I was particularly focused on depantsing a national icon at the time,” Darcy responded amusedly.

“So you and he are no longer … ?” Matt was not quite sure what he was trying to ask. Darcy let the vague question linger between them for a moment.

“I never said that, Matt.” Darcy’s amusement deepened.

“I’m not one to step out with someone who is already partnered up,” Matt responded evenly. Though, he had the sense he was missing some part of this conversation.

“Well,” the tease in her voice was wicked sharp. “I do believe it was _you_ who brought up the idea of a threesome.”

The look on his face at that moment was nothing less than deer-in-the-headlights. But the biggest deer eyes in the biggest headlights in a tri-state area. Darcy could almost imagine it, and it delighted her. It took Matt several long moments to recover.

“Well then,” his voice deepened in promise. Not quite his Daredevil voice, that voice was for dark rooftops and fists in alleyways. This voice held a completely different kinds of promises. “There’s Speakeasy over on the Lower East Side. Maximum of four people. $400 a pop just for entrance. Private, swank, and very, very good. I’m sure you can make something happen so that you both can … Make your apologies to me in person.”

The bright, sweet laughter brushed against his spine like velvet. It was exactly the response that Matt had hoped for. He fidgeted even more in his seat, for entirely different reasons.

“I’ll text you the details,” she promised, voice like whiskey and citrus. A click signaled the disconnection of the call.

“It’s a date,” he spoke to the dial tone.

\--

Matt showed up to Speakeasy fifteen minutes early. Or rather, he waited at the mouth of the alley that led to the joint. The blind man intended to be there half an hour or more in advance, in order to case the place and ensure that it was secure for the evening. Unfortunately, he got into a vicious fight with his wardrobe at the last minute. While his entire wardrobe was designed to mix-and-match well (despite being a superhero, he was still blind), he wanted to step up his usual game. If he could afford to, he would dress only in the finest silks and fabrics. His super senses meant he was prone to sensory overload, where even the softest cottons could feel like sandpaper. Better not to risk fate.

Matt settled on a silk shirt so pale a blue it was almost white, and a wool suit in a graphite grey. No tie, partially to keep it casual and partially avoid giving potential attackers easy handholds in battle. While knives were not his usual repertoire, had a few of those on his person as well. Stepping out with not one but two _very important people_ meant that he was prepared for every eventuality.

Matt had his senses aimed out into the world, searching for two figures in the bustling distance. Matt was so engrossed in his observation, that he didn't notice when one of the many bustling figures in the New York evening paused just beside him.

Matt startled out of his distracted state when the figure let out a softly spoken, “Ummm … Matthew Murdock?” 

The lawyer shifted his body to face the figure, his cane scraping softly along the ground to help fill his environment with sound. The Daredevil began to construct a mental picture of the man who just entered the scene.

The first thing that Matt registered was the smell. Or rather, the almost complete lack of smell. Each person had their unique scent profiles, part personal body chemistry and part chemicals from deodorants or detergents. Matt could smell only a hint of mint on the breath, salt that could be from sweat, and an earthy something that was probably the man’s unique scent.

The next thing Matt registered was the shape and sound of him. The stranger’s heartbeat was a low and steady thrum, his breathing almost metronomically even. Matt would have clocked his biorhythms as a marathon runner, with how steady they were at rest. Yet, the man had several inches of height on Matt. In fact, the figure was several inches bigger in almost every direction. 

“Hello,” Matt purred out with a smile dancing at the edge of his lips. Matt extended his right hand out, perfectly poised to accept the supersoldier's handshake. No need to play the hapless blind man. The hand that gripped his was large and perfectly smooth. “Captain Rogers, I presume?” 

The strong grip sent a pulse of heat traveling up Matt's arm, settling near his diaphragm. Matt hadn’t been with a man since college (not very many women either to be honest), and the figure in front of him reminded him exactly what he was missing out on.

“Just Steve,” the larger man responded. As Steve disengaged the handshake, Matt let his fingers dance along the palm of his partner for the evening. Matt caught the slight shiver the touch provoked in the supersoldier.

“Not that I’m not happy to _see_ you,” Matt said, making a handwavy motion that drew emphasis to his unseeing eyes covered by dark, red sunglasses. Matt's self-indulgent delight in making such jokes endeared himself to Steve. “But wasn't Darcy also supposed to be here for the evening?”

 _Jesus Christ, I really do have a type, don’t I?_ Steve stared Matt up and down, struck dumb at the beautiful smirk playing along the edges of an already emerging 5 o’clock shadow. _I owe Darcy $100._

“I’m not sure what bet you have going on with Darcy, soldier, but that didn’t exactly answer my question.”

Steve’s eyes widened in horror, “I said that out loud?”

The laughter that filled the night was rich and masculine. Matt could practically taste the heat coming off of the supersoldier’s face. Matt was smitten.

“Yes, yes you did.” Matt decided to be generous in that moment by reaching out to take the soldier by his very impressive bicep. Steve’s arm instinctively bent to the escorting position, moving with Matt towards the Speakeasy proper. The soldier’s arm was a furnace underneath the softest coat material Matt had ever felt. Matt let his fingers dance along the arm on display.

“Darcy was roped into some project with Tony. It’ll be at least another three hours before anything but science will penetrate their brains.” Something melty and warm suffused the air, Matt heard genuine admiration from Steve despite them being stood up. Matt decided not to take it personally. Life of a super, and all that. 

“I figured there was no reason we couldn’t still enjoy our evening,” Steve continued. Even towering over Matt, Steve’s boyish charm and _aww-shucks_ energy made it feel as if he was looking up at Matt through hooded eyes. 

“I’m sure we can find plenty of ways to entertain ourselves until Darcy is free,” Matt responded, giving the arm he held an appreciative squeeze but hardly denting the impressive muscles. Matt could almost feel Steve’s heart beat pick beneath his finger tips.

“Well, jeez,” Steve flexed his arm, applying reassuring pressure to Matt’s hand resting there. Playfulness dancing in his voice, Steve spoke, “I have Darcy’s credit card and a super metabolism. How about we go put that to the test?”

\--

Steve Rogers was stripping off his dinner coat jacket with a careless confidence that was deeply attractive to Matt Murdock. The supersoldier tossed the coat towards one of the couches that filled the minimal space. Matt was pretty sure some of his bisexual awakening dreams looked almost exactly like this. Matt wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, to ensure he was actually standing in Captain America’s living room in the Avenger’s Tower.

Instead of pinching himself, Matt divested himself of his coat in a more sedentary fashion. He placed it carefully on the back of a the first chair he found. 

“Someone seems awfully eager,” Matt teased out while beginning to undo the cufflinks around his wrists. Though he couldn’t see it, Matt could almost feel the New York skyline casting warm light into the inside of the open space. “Are you always this much in a rush for a pounding?”

Steve paused his relentless momentum. The blond turned around and stopped completely at the sight of Matt carefully disrobing. Something thrummed through the blond, some fire ignited at the challenge presented before him. Steve shot a Cheshire grin at the Daredevil, before grabbing his shirt and whipping it off his head in a flurry.

“I knew you’d be a drip,” Steve taunted, an accent peaking through his careful diction. The man filled the room with his presence, standing then only in his tank top and soon-to-be-off slacks. “Don’t be a chicken. Let's hurry this show on the road.”

The cocktails from the Speakeasy left Matt feeling warm and content. The man before him was threatening to turn that warmth into a raging blaze. Steve laughed at the gobsmacked look that had overtaken Matt's face. 

“That works on Darcy, too, you’ll find. Best way to deal with the sass,” Steve added, looping thumbs into the belt loops of his slacks. Pulling them taut, showing off how the pants hugged every curve. “Is to play dirty, don’t you know?”

“Well then,” Matt’s movement quickened in response, voice full of playful menace. “Let’s play dirty then.” 

Steve flashed a quicksilver smirk, before turning back to his original destination. 

All thoughts of keeping his clothes neat flew out the window, and Matt’s shirt joined Steve’s on the couch. _I’ll make Darcy pay for dry-cleaning,_ he figured.

Matt practically started running after the supersoldier in his rush to not be left behind. Unexpectedly, a pair of dress slacks flew straight for him. Matt had to dive into a roll and spring back to his feet in order to dodge them in his pursuit. The mental picture of Steve's form was so much crisper without a pair of pants in the way. The image of a brief’s clad supersoldier running would be a vision that would fuel Matt’s best dreams for months.

Matt only managed to get the second leg of his pants off right before crossed the threshold into the room Steve had just entered.

Only one step into the room, Matt was forced to launch himself into a cartwheel. He neatly dodged the right hook Steve had shot straight for his face. Instead, the blow landed against the door, throwing it into backwards into the wall with a boom.

Matt laughed, freely and without reservation. “Going to have to do better than that, Captain.”

“You’re the one that wanted a good spar,” the smile on Steve’s face was pure, boyish charm. The kind of charm that sold war bonds and fueled fantasies. The supersoldier glowed like a beacon, and Matt’s blood rushed south of the equator in response.

“You were the one bitching about not having had a good one in weeks,” Matt retorted. The blind lawyer took a second to center himself before launching at the super soldier with a kick to the chest that sent Steve flying out of the room. 

Steve whooped as he launched himself back on his feet, preparing to get back to the melee. “I thought I was doing a good job of playing coy.” 

Steve launched back into the room, clearing the distance between them in one bound. Matt was forced back further into the gym. 

“Wait,” Matt moved to punch, but Steve went in for a kick that forced Matt back further. Matt leaned away from the kick, leaving Steve open for a right hook to the face. Matt’s fist connected with Steve’s face in a blow that reverberated up Matt’s arm. In shock for a different reason, Matt asked, “Was that you flirting?”

The brush of stubble against his knuckles left even more of an impression on the lawyer than the impressiveness of the jaw he just clocked. Despite the blow, the blond’s grin grew larger.

“Was telling you to get your clothes off when we walked into my place not clue enough?” Steve asked drolly, catching the left jab coming his way in one hand. Steve squeezed and held on to the fist captured he had captured.

“You’re Captain America!” Matt aimed his free hand at Steve’s torso, which Steve deflected. “I figured you were being earnest!” 

Matt’s free hand reconnected with Steve’s face once again. Matt took that brief opportunity to grab the elbow of the arm holding his fist captive, yanking Steve's arm up with great force. If Steve had not leaned into the motion and into a flip, his elbow would have been dislocated. Though he was forced to release Matt’s hand. 

“I’m always being earnest.” Steve quickly followed up with a right knee. Matt only barely managed to deflect it with his forearms. Blood pressure rose, thundering in both their ears. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t flirting or hoping for some action.” 

Steve struck out with his right fist. Matt ducked under it, but could feel it graze across his hair.

“Wow … ” Matt responded in awe. Matt leapt towards the blonde, right foot connecting with Steve’s broad chest. The force jolted through Matt's leg, causing him to fall to the mat on his back. Steve went flying backward, but gracefully used the momentum to roll into a backflip that had him instantly back on his feet.

“I don’t know if I’m impressed that it still worked or mad that I’m such an idiot,” Matt stated contritely.

The air shifted, and Matt rolled back up onto his feet before Steve got too close. Steve was charging at him, a tank of muscle and efficiency. The other man entered Matt’s space in a flurry of limbs. The jarring of his muscles forgotten, Matt's attention was completely focused on the quick movements necessary to dodge Steve’s powerful blows. Heat built low in his belly.

“Don’t worry, dreamboat,” Steve panted out, words dripping condescension but the smile still pure joy. “Better people than either of us have fallen for this smile.”

And with that statement, Steve stepped further into Matt’s space. Steve shot Matt a smile turned up so bright and blinding, that Matt paused to examine the curve of it in his mind’s eye. Though, the moment of distraction cost him, because Steve landed a side jab that forced Matt to stumble back and regroup.

The smell of gin and berries on Steve’s breath lingered in the air between them, hitting Matt somewhere in his solar plexus. Beneath that smell however, some base scent, something purely Steve, was becoming more and more apparent.

Matt, before he could censor himself, blurted out, “God. I can finally smell you.” Matt’s face was aflame instantly.

Steve’s smile softened to something confused, though charmed. Steve responded, “Darcy mentioned you were sensitive to smell.” 

Matt advanced on Steve, a new determination haunting his step. Desperate now, to force the beginnings of the glow of sweat on Steve’s face into something more. More blood pounding, more input for his senses to drink in.

“I am very sensitive to smell,” Matt responded in the affirmative, ducking under the swing of Steve’s latest attack. The blind man threw his whole body into a follow up right hook, connecting. Though, he felt Steve relaxing into the blow to lessen the impact.

Matt pivoted into a spinning roundhouse kick, sending Steve backwards once more. Steve stumbled until a wall stopped his momentum. 

“Do I smell bad?” Steve lifted his arm, raising his armpit to his nose to get a sniff in unselfconscious earnestness. Matt was endeared. “Or did I use the wrong detergent? Darcy made us switch to unscented everything so we wouldn’t …” 

Steve abruptly stopped talking, but Matt could sense the blush grace the soldier's face. Matt wanted to make Steve blush, but with battle or baser needs, not with embarrassment. Though, Matt was determined to have Steve finish that sentence.

With that in mind, Matt ran towards the super soldier at full speed, launching right knee first. The knee connected with Steve’s chest in a blow that jarred through them both. It knocked the breath out of Steve in particular, as it slammed him back into the wall.

Matt rested his hands on the blond's impressive shoulders, using them for balance. Leaning upward and whispering against Steve's ear, Matt asked, “So you wouldn’t what, soldier?” 

Matt wasn’t sure if it was the endearment or the hot breath ghosting over sensitive neck, but a shiver ran through the supersoldier. Matt could feel the shiver through his own undershirt, and undershirt that was rapidly growing damp and clinging to the curves of his abs. Matt’s dick throbbed in the confines of his boxer-briefs. 

“So we wouldn’t kill the sexy times mood with bad smells,” Steve repeated, verbatim, what were obviously Darcy’s words. A grin bloomed on Matt’s face. Steve took a moment to appreciate the handsome man before him, before throwing a right jab. The smile on Matt's face grew larger, even though his skull shook slightly with the blow.

Matt stumbled backwards, to gain some distance from Steve’s impressive reach.

Steve advanced, hoping to take advantage of the moment, but Matt recovered quickly. A few more quick blows exchanged, and Matt had a lock around Steve’s left arm. With the arm trapped, Matt launched Steve into a throw that had the blond hit the ground in a dull thud.

“ _Sexy times mood_ , ha!” Matt taunted him on the floor. “But in all seriousness, I can read a lot from a person’s sweat. I'm as good as a blood hound. Was just curious why I couldn’t pick up much from you?”

Steve launched back to his feet, grabbed Matt by his undershirt collar, and yanked the brunette close. Steve’s arms bulged with the strain of heaving Matt’s entire body weight, practically lifting the smaller man off the floor. Only stopping when Matt's face was less than a hair's breadth away, though the lines of their bodies touched from belly to toe.

“Supersoldier metabolism probably,” Steve breathed out, his words a caress against Matt’s lips. Matt felt a solid warmth against his hip, insistent and huge. “It takes a lot to make me sweat.”

Matt gulped with how turned on he was.

Unexpectedly, Steve tossed Matt away from him, forcing Matt into a roll. Matt arrested his momentum efficiently. Sensing Steve approaching rapidly, Matt rolled out of the way, barely dodging Steve’s fist. The supersoldier's punch impacted the floor in an impressive boom. 

“Fuck,” Matt exclaimed. “Is this you still flirting?” A spurt of precum in his boxer-brief belied the harshness of his words. Matt went back to his feet, and readjusted himself to relieve some of the building ache.

They exchange a few more quick blows, switching to mostly punches and jabs. The pressure growing between their legs made footwork more and more awkward.

In a flurry of movement, Steve was suddenly standing behind Matt, wrapping solid arms around the smaller man’s midsection. 

Matt struggled, but the movement shifted Steve’s shaft until it laid long and thick against his crack. Both men stilled, their breathing in sync.

“This is definitely still me flirting,” Steve said, before leaning down to nip Matt’s ear. Matt could feel the heat emitting from Steve, could smell his earthy scent, and something alkaline and bitter that was likely the beginnings of precum in Steve’s well-filled out briefs. Steve asked, “Is it working?”

Not giving Matt a chance to respond, Steve lifted him bodily off the ground, launching the brunette backwards. Matt slammed into the mat, face down, dick hard and uncomfortable against the unforgiving ground.

“Fuck you, wonder boy,” Matt bit out, though he couldn’t say if it was frustration with the fight or frustration that they hadn't moved on to what would come after the fight. 

“I think you meant to say ‘fuck me, wonderboy,’” Steve quipped. The lawyer should have expected the comeback, but he was somehow still surprised. Steve's smile held promises that Matt was desperate to cash in. “And I plan to."

In response, Matt pushed himself up and launched into his next attacks. They both whooped in delight for the next minutes of fists and movement.

The fighting was an absolute blur to Matt. His fists were starting to throb dully, his lip wasn’t split but it was dangerously close, and he tasted copper on his tongue. An opportunity opened when Matt was behind the Captain, back to back. Deciding to do something unexpected, Matt reached behind and above him, grabbing the Captain by his thick neck and under his chin. Matt used his whole body to throw and flip the larger man over him. 

“Or maybe I’ll be fucking you,” Matt smirked down at the man laying stunned before him. The Captain had landed in a thud that left the both of them breathing in harsh pants. 

His victory was short-lived however. A quick handmove by Steve, and Matt was once more on the ground. That time, shoulder-to-shoulder with his opponent. They both laid there, recovering their breath, for several long moments.

The tension was too much for Steve.

Next thing he knew, Matt was being buried under a mountain of flesh and warmth. Steve’s body enveloped him, foot to shoulder, faces less than an inch apart. Matt’s erection had not gone anywhere during the entirety of the fight, but all of his attention shifted to where it was pressed against Captain America's hard length. He fought not to rut up against the supersoldier.

“Who says we can’t take turns?” Steve stated, before slamming his lips down on the smaller man’s. 

Steve consumed Matt's mouth with the same skill and intensity he had shown while fighting. Kissing with a ferocity that was unexpected, though the lips themselves were soft, and the hands framing his face almost gentle. Steve’s hands moved to gripping Matt’s dark locks tightly in two fists. 

Matt was overwhelmed by the sensation of skin against his, the pressure of hands against his scalp, drowning in the taste and scent of the powerful man above him. It took a minute before Matt remembered that he had his own hands. He began burrowing them under Steve’s tank top, desperate to get more of Steve’s skin on his own.

Eventually, Steve broke the kiss and pulled back. Matt would deny that he whimpered when the kiss broke.

“Is having Darcy participating a necessity for you?” Steve asked, though it took Matt many seconds to comprehend what was being said. Matt was too distracted by trying to get his hands further up Steve’s spine, hungry for more contact. “Darcy and I already talked, and are both good to step out with you one-on-one. But I need to hear what you’re comfortable with.”

“God. You really are a boy scout, aren’t you?” Matt groaned out, giving into temptation and bucking up against Steve. Matt could feel wetness being added to the briefs at the tip of Steve’s cock. The glide of fabric against fabric was excruciatingly good. 

“Consent is important, Matt.” Steve bit his lip to hold back his groan, though he moved to grab the smaller man by his wrists. Once the offending hands were seized, Steve pinned them down gently on either side of Matt’s head. Steve stared down, face enraptured.

“Yes,” Matt growled out, voice almost beyond him. “I can’t wait to get my mouth and hands on Darcy. But if you don’t get your dick in me right now, I will take this situation into my own hands.”

“Spitfire,” was all Steve could say. He said it reverently again, before reclaiming Matt again by the mouth. Steve kept up his grip on the other man’s wrists. “I can’t wait to take you apart.”

Steve shifted Matt’s two wrists to being held in one of his large hands, forcing the brunette’s to lay prone beneath. Steve used his now free hand to explore Matt's firm chest. When content with his explorations there, Steve's hand kept going south and only stopped when he grasped a handful of Matt through boxer-briefs. 

The squirming of the man below him set Steve’s veins on fire. Steve may not have had many partners, but they were all active and enthusiastic in this aspect. His dick throbbed. He rutted his dick in steady pulses against Matt’s hip, not daring to push harder or faster lest he come before he was ready.

Matt could not be held still for long. He squirmed under the blond until he freed his legs. Matt wrapped them tightly around Steve's hips, inviting him deeper into the v of his legs. The new arrangement caused both to moan into each other’s mouths. 

“Get your clothes off, God damn it!” Matt growled, using his powerful legs to rock Steve against him. Matt’s nerves were singing, his senses dialed up to 11. He wanted (needed) more.

Steve released Matt’s hands to fulfill the demand. The blond had his tank top off in one quick pull, revealing a heaving, sweaty chest. Matt’s hands scrambled at his own shirt, but was not able to get it off since he was trapped under Steve’s bulk. Impatiently, Steve reached down, grabbed the shirt in his fists and tore it in half. He instantly treated himself to his unwrapped prize, running hands along the miles of muscle, hair, and skin that was Matthew Murdock.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Matt moaned out, as smooth hands traced along the length of his torso, teasing at his nipples and belly. Matt reached out, plunging hands into Steve’s sweat soaked hair, and pulled him into a kiss full of desperate teeth and gentle tongues to soothe the burn. The friction of stubble against stubble left Matt feeling sensitive and alive.

Steve couldn’t keep his mouth from wandering, though. He began venturing kisses and tongue, lavishing and worshipful.

“Beautiful,” Steve breathed out into Matt's ear, nosing along jaw until he found what he was looking for. A sensitive spot on Matt's neck that Steve used teeth and harsh sucks, lighting fireworks along Matt's nervous system. 

Steve’s worshipful kisses and licks traveled downward, until he reached Matt’s right nipple. Steve abruptly sucked on it. Hard. A squeak escaped Matt, which had Steve’s dick practically punching through the briefs trying to restrain him. Steve always had a thing for seeing strong, tough people go soft and vulnerable underneath him.

Steve used teeth on the nipple, sucking, pulling back only when the Matt's moans shifted from pleasure to pleasure-pain. Steve blew a steady breath against the raised and wet peak, relishing the shudder that passed through the brunette. Steve grasped the length of Matt’s cock through his boxer-briefs, and started pumping gently.

“Fuck, I’m going to come if you keep that up,” Matt moaned out. His voice shifted to a whine at the end, as Steve surprised him by shifting to the other nipple.

“Don’t worry, spitfire,” Steve's voice was wrecked with lust. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“Fuck,” Matt said, over and over again, like a prayer. Steve relinquished the second nipple before continuing his journey south. “How are you real?” 

Matt’s whole body shuddered as large fingers danced around the elastic of his underwear.

“May I?” Steve asked, drinking in Matt’s form. Strong muscle, firm jaw, full lips, and a desperate tent, aching for relief. Steve rubbed his cheek against the clad length, breathing on it and pressing gentle kisses through the fabric.

“God, yes!” Matt, realizing his hands were free to do as they wished, rushed down to assist Steve in getting the offending underwear off. Matt’s length bobbed in freedom, smacking back down onto his abs, leaving a smear of fluid in his treasure trail.

Not wasting any more time, Steve grabbed the hot length and plunged it into his mouth. He licked frantically, and hollowed out his cheeks in a needy suck. All Matt could do was plunge his hands in the blond locks and hold on for dear life. Matt could not have stopped himself from rocking up into the wet heat. Though, his motion was quickly put to a stop by the hands wrapped around his hips, pinning him down once more. 

The blind man moaned deep in his throat. Matt held on tightly to the head that began to bob up and down his length.

Matt was lost in a haze of sensation, mind focused completely at the point between his legs. That was, until strong hands moved from his hips to his thighs and gripped them with exquisite pressure. Slowly, they forced Matt’s legs up until the smaller man was exposed in his entirety.

“Please,” Matt chanted. “Please.” Matt wasn’t sure entirely what he was begging for, but he knew the soldier would deliver.

Matt’s body clenched in pleasure at the sudden, wet lapping at his tight rim. It pressed against him, unrelenting, like Steve himself. His hole couldn't hold out forever, and gave to the advancing tongue in a howl of pleasure from Matt.

Steve moaned, hungrily, into the man beneath him. Gorged himself on the sounds. Steve had Matt nearly bent in half, forcing him to accept the pleasure that Steve was desperate to give.

“There you go,” Steve murmured against heated skin, moving to lap gently at the delicate skin of Matt’s balls. Steve began tracing the rim with his fingers, tongue still lavishing at the bounty before him.

“Let me in,” Steve said gently, as he began to slowly work in the first finger. 

The blond man’s fingers were as large as the rest of him, and introduced a delicious burn that lit Matt up from the inside. Perhaps it was his moonlighting as a masked vigilante or perhaps it was something inherent to him, but Matt loved the burn of almost-pain. It kindled inside him, made him feel alive.

“More,” he begged, reaching to grasp his own legs and hold them to his chest. Freeing up Steve to plunder with mouth and hands. Steve continued to tease him with gentle nips along his taint and tongue dancing around sensitive skin. “Come on, soldier. Hop to it.”

“Sir,” Steve said cheekily, spitting on Matt's hole, before plunging another finger into the tight heat. “Yes, sir.” He continued on, occasionally adding tongue to the fingers driving in and out of Matt's body.

When Steve finally introduced a third finger, he crooked them to aim directly for the smaller man's prostate. Matt squeaked in pleasure each time his fingers reached their deepest point. 

Matt could feel Steve murmur a question against his hole, but it was a struggle to understand since he was lost in sensation. The three fingers inside him stopped moving suddenly, though Matt could feel them resting gently against his prostate. It was an exercise in self-control not to fuck himself on the magic fingers and focus on the words.

“Wha?” Matt mumbled out.

“Do you need me to stop and get a condom?” Steve asked. Matt’s confusion must have been obvious, because he continued on, “I can’t get or transmute STDs but clean-up is still annoying.”

“Fuck me,” was the only response Matt could have given. “I want to feel you.”

Though Matt couldn’t see with his eyes, he could sense the dilation of the supersoldier’s eyes from lust. The fire in his belly roared in satisfaction and Matt arched his back, driving the fingers in and out of him again.

Matt focused his senses on Steve as the blond moved to kneeling in order to get his briefs off. When Steve finally removed his briefs from the equation, Matt was unable to resist the temptation to explore. He was barely able to wrap his fingers around Steve's girth, and there was plenty of length still peaking out above his one fist. Matt reached out with his other hand, placing it above the first fist. There was still more length uncovered.

"Fuck, you're big," Matt said in appreciation as he began pumping the length in his two handed grip. Matt grinned to himself in satisfaction as the sensation rippled through Steve’s core, forcing Steve to hunch over in pleasure. Dazed, though not for long.

In a feat of strength, which Matt had always been attracted to, Steve flipped them. The blond was then laying on the floor while Matt was poised over Steve’s hard length. Matt's legs were weak with pleasure, only Steve’s strength prevented Matt from plunging onto the shaft.

“How about I let you do the work at first, spitfire?” Steve crooned at the man above him. “You can take your time. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Matt nodded, and reached for the shaft below him. Matt held it steady, and began to slowly lower himself down. Half way through, the burn forced Matt to hold himself steady. 

Steve stroked along his thighs, back, and neck, murmuring sweet encouragements and biting back swears of pleasure. The burn inside Matt rode the line between true discomfort and pleasure so good, he was languid with it. Matt found the strength in his thighs to make small movements that worked the length inside him steadily.

When Matt’s bare bottom finally reached the thick hair at the base of Steve’s body, he collapsed on the blond man’s chest. Steve kissed him, stroking his neck and back, as the smaller man adjusted to the intrusion. 

After several long minutes, Matt experimentally started squirming on the length. Miniscule in and out motions to test the stretch inside him, as they continued to kiss. He took a deep satisfaction in feeling Steve’s hands settle around his hips. Matt could feel the tension building in Steve’s thighs, the shaking in them speaking to how desperate the man was to thrust up into his tight heat.

“Please,” then it was Steve’s turn to beg as he pulled away from the kiss. “Please.” 

Matt nodded once, and quickly placed his hands on the shoulders of the man beneath him. Bracing himself, Matt began riding.

Steve drank him in, Matt's own length rubbing along his abs with every churn, the grip and heat overwhelming him. Steve buried his face in Matt’s collar bone, stubble rubbing a fiery trail, as Matt used him for his own gratification. Steve's hands on Matt's hips flexed, leaving small bruises that Matt would enjoy feeling there later.

“I need to ... ” Steve couldn't articulate what he needed, but Matt just nodded in affirmation and stopped the riding motion. Steve readjusted, and then began to use his powerful legs to thrust up into the body above him. The first pump pulled a moan from deep inside Matt's chest.

Matt's hands clenched, nails biting deeply into the shoulders beneath him, and continued moaning with each pump. His need grew from a trickle to a torrent.

“Come for me,” Steve crooned, sensing the other's growing need. Steve was just as desperate, but wouldn't come until his partner did first.

The heat ran fiery laps along Matt's spine. His fists clenched into claws around Steve’s shoulders, thighs shaking with the oncoming storm. Matt had never come untouched before, but he was perilously close.

“Steve, please,” Matt begged, his own length bobbing in midair with each thrust.

“You can do it, Matt,” Steve said. Steve shifted his hips, angling himself directly against the smaller man’s prostate. Steve punched out little moans from Matt with each collision.

“Come on my dick, spitfire,” Steve demanded.

Matt fell off the cliff gasping, painting strips of white along Steve's chest. As Matt convulsed around him, Steve buried himself into Matt once, twice, three times. Steve emptied himself in the clench of rippling muscle, orgasm feeling as if it was ripped from him.

They both collapsed into each other. Matt lounged bonelessly on Steve beneath him, Steve a puddle of flesh on the floor. Their chests slick together, with sweat and spend.

“Well done, soldier,” Matt sleepily droned out, applying sleepy kisses to Steve’s neck before lazily making his way to the other’s mouth. The kiss shared was sweet and slow. "I think you win that round."

“I'd call it a tie,” Steve chuckled around the sweet kisses. His spine soupy and leg still spasming with the aftershocks. “Give me a minute. I’ll get us cleaned and in a bed.”

“Hmmm … My hero,” Matt teased, eyes drifting shut in contentment. Matt hadn’t been that relaxed in years. He had one last thought before sleep dragged him under. That if it was that good with Steve, he wouldn't wait to experience Steve _and_ Darcy together.


	2. A Feast for Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve pleasures Darcy. That's it. That's the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, my head cannon is that Steve is a total service top in all of his relationships. Personally, as a man who has had sex with men, the previous chapter was fairly easy to write. This one, while more fun, was a lot harder since I have no sexual experience with women (though I have and do feel attraction to them). I have NO IDEA if I hit the mark on what I was trying to achieve with this, so feedback/critique would be much appreciated!
> 
> Also, since I am now determined to make this a series of stories, please let me know if there is anything you'd like to see happen!

Darcy strode into Steve’s apartment in the Avenger’s Tower, hair a riot of curls made from constantly taking on and off the scrunchies she used to secure her hair away from her face. She was barefoot, her most comfortable 3 inch heels clutched in her fist. Her royal blue blouse was beyond saving, splashed with lab gunk, and her slacks were not far behind. The young woman didn’t want to contemplate what her makeup situation looked like.

The last time Darcy remembered checking the time, she had few minutes to spare before she needed to depart to be on time for her planned date with Steve and Matt. She knew that window had long since closed, and was only hoping things had gone well enough for the boys that a raincheck was possible in the near future.

Making her way through Steve’s living room, throwing her shoes near the entrance wall and divesting herself of the blouse, she desperately avoided looking at any clocks. Darcy didn't want to face the reality of how little sleep she had available to her before work began again. Mornings where she could sleep in were rare enough when she first started at Stark Industries. Unfortunately, they had long become a relic of the past. 

Darcy’s eyes were starting to throb, the beginnings of a headache building along her forehead and the base of her skull. Partially because of her date-night contacts she had put in that morning, and partially for staring at the myriad of screens that made up Tony’s personal laboratory.

Darcy threw her blouse near the couch absentmindedly, on her path to Steve’s bedroom in her best matching bra and panties. At that point in the evening (or was it morning already?), the young woman wanted one thing and one thing only: to sleep. Perhaps to also wrap around Steve like a cold octopus seeking warmth, but mostly to sleep. 

_Like, 75% of the reason just to sleep_.

So determined to see that happen, Darcy didn’t notice the extra set of discarded men’s clothes scattered about Steve’s living room. It was only when she entered Steve’s bedroom, that she finally pieced it all together. Darcy was almost surprised to see Steve and Matt naked in bed together, but she felt she shouldn’t have been. They were illuminated softly by the warm, faint light coming from the in-suite bathroom opposite the bedroom’s entrance. Steve was a fantastic cuddler. One of his large arms was supporting Matt’s head, while the other arm held Matt so close, it was like Steve was afraid the other would flee in the night. It was difficult to tell where one body started and the other ended. 

The way they were wrapped around each other, the swelling curve of muscle and gentle breaths, was effortlessly masculine and beautiful. For a moment, she wondered if this was what Aphrodite felt when she spied upon Cupid and Psyche. The dark thought didn't linger though, replaced with a soft pleasure in watching a man she was beginning to love seek comfort with a man she could, perhaps, love someday.

Darcy almost wished her brain was working and that she had read the signs quicker. Sleep was a rare luxury in their respective lines of work, and she wouldn’t have wanted to disturb their sleep if she could help it. Steve’s was only ever untidy when he was in a rush. A rush to get laid, in particular. Darcy knew that small detail about him very, very intimately.

Painfully slow, Darcy backed out of the room. Both sleeping figures had enhanced senses sharpened through battle, and she would do her best not to trigger them into wakefulness. In fact, she was more surprised that she _hadn’t_ woken either men thus far. 

_They must have only just fallen asleep_ , she thought drowsily to herself. When the door to the room closed with the softest click, she let out the breath she had been holding. She turned to make her way to Steve’s kitchen. The sound proofing in the personal quarters were very good, so she was less worried about disturbing the sleeping figures.

When Darcy reached Steve’s kitchen, she turned on the small oven overhead light, and shuffled about to make herself some tea. Darcy reached into what was becoming her tea section of Steve’s cabinets, before pulling out her favorite sleep-tea made for her by Bruce. She measured out careful teaspoons of the valerian and chamomile mix into a mug, welcoming the smell, as she set an electric kettle to boil.

The light from the kitchen painted the space in warm sepia tones. Time escaped her grasp as she waited for the water to boil. Darcy fought against encroaching sleep. She lost the battle there somewhere, since the soft beep of the kettle jolted her out of semi-consciousness. She moved efficiently to pour herself a cup.

Darcy held the tea between her two palms, staring blankly at the swirl of tiny galaxies that Natasha had painted on her fingernails. She waited for the concoction to seep, but appreciated the warmth. She took the first sip, bitter-sweet tea washed over her tongue, and the stress of her day began to slowly melt away.

Darcy stood there for quite a while, warm drink in hand. In the moments she was lucid enough to know where she was, Darcy took careful sips of the tea.

The young woman couldn’t say how long she stood there, nor could she say which of her senses tuned her into the presence standing in the bedroom doorway. Darcy was in a cocoon of dim light and mostly darkness, and couldn’t quite make out the figure from her vantage point. Neither the light coming from the bedroom nor from the kitchen was sufficient to make the figure clear.

She stood there, without fear, and continued to take careful sips.

It wasn’t until the figure moved out of the doorway, closing the bedroom door softly behind them, that she recognized it was Steve. The shoulders were too wide, the stride too much like a dancer, for it to be anyone else.

Steve approached her on silent feet, all casual grace even in the darkness of the almost-morning. He didn’t stop walking until he was only a step away from her. He filled her space, despite not touching her. Darcy, focused on her tea, missed how his eyes catalogued every inch of her in honest concern.

Darcy brought her drink up to her lips to take another gulp, and was surprised to find the tea had cooled practically to room temperature. She didn’t know when it had done that.

Steve reached out, one careful paw, to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers caressed her brow along the journey. Darcy nuzzled her cheek into the warm palm.

“Heya Stevie,” she whispered into the night. The fading twilight felt too sacred to carry any louder sounds. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“Not at all, Darce,” Steve responded whisper for whisper. He moved his hand to cup the back of her neck in a reassuring grip. He palm settled across the span of her neck, fingers aimed upwards to scratch gently into her hair.

Darcy eyes drooped closed, relaxing into the sensation. Darcy only remembered the tea in her hands when Steve pried it from her half-loose fingers. He set it down on the counter beside her.

“You seem dead on your feet, dollface,” Steve spoke gently. Steve worried about Darcy. He knew how much she had been burning midnight candles from both ends. Not that Steve was much better, but he needed significantly less sleep than her.

Coming to a silent decision to himself, Steve closed the remaining distance between them. He enveloped Darcy gently in both arms.

“Hmmmm,” she moaned out around the warmth and sweetness of skin against skin. Darcy nuzzled her head into his sternum, like she was trying to burrow inside him for warmth. “Warm Steve.”

Steve chuckled, and closed his own eyes to just be in the moment with his favorite person. Steve had to hunch somewhat to rest his head against hers, but it was always worth the slight awkwardness. The smell of Darcy’s shampoo was avocadoy and sweet. Sometimes, the smell lit him up with hunger and need. Other times, like that moment, it smelled like comfort.

“Don’t you think we should get you to bed, doll?” He inquired into the baby hairs near her ear, ghosting the words..

“No,” she replied almost petulantly, burrowing her face more aggressively into his chest. “Steve cuddles.”

Darcy pulled her face away briefly, to deliver Steve her patented Stink Eye of Sleepy Death™. It was adorable and effective every time. It was a force of will to contain the laughter that bubbled up inside him every time she did this.

Somehow, Darcy always knew when Steve was laughing on the inside. So, she turned up her death glare up to 11. She wrapped her arms aggressively against Steve’s sides for warmth. Her hands roamed over miles of skin, caressing the velvet firmness of Steve’s backside, before clasping her hands at his lower back. Darcy only just realized her partner was stark naked.

“Steve naked cuddles,” she reiterated, decisively, before burying her face back into the swell of the supersoldier’s chest. “Naked Steve cuddles. Are the best cuddles.”

Steve was glad how short Darcy was in moments like these. Decades ago, he would catch glimpses of himself in the mirror after making love with Bucky, or listening to Peggy rant against the world. It always disarmed him, how soft his brow became, how much the emotion transformed the shape of him. 

Steve knew, in these quiet moments staring down at Darcy in his arms, that he had that same look on his face. His, face blazed with the first blush of love for Darcy. Even though his mouth had not yet given life to those words. 

“Come on, sweetheart.” Steve squeezed her once before releasing her from his embrace, dropping his hands to her hips. “Let’s get you a coupla hours of shut eye.”

Steve moved to step back, determined to drag Darcy to her much deserved rest. Darcy, though, had other ideas.

“Nooooooo,” she moaned out, as she wrapped around him boa constrictor tight. “Cuddle naked Steve.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “You really must be tired. You’re not making any sense.”

“Naked cuddles, Steve,” Darcy added, face serious though body still lax against him. 

Steve chuckled softly, going to pry her surprisingly strong arms from around his torso. Darcy allowed him to remove his arms from around him, but Steve should have realized it was a feint.

Even punch-drunk on no sleep, Darcy was a tricky one. The brunette took the opportunity of freed limbs to instead hop up, wrapping arms around the tall man’s neck. Her strong legs snared around his hips like pincers.

Steve instinctively moved his hands underneath Darcy to secure her against him. Steve’s hands were firm and strong against Darcy’s bottom, as they adjusted to hold her weight. 

“Steve cuddles naked,” Darcy hissed out menacingly, inches now from Steve’s stubbly face. Perhaps she was attempting menacing, but Steve found her scrunched up face nothing short of adorable. 

Steve bridged the gap between their lips, and covered her mouth with his own. He smoothed out her faux-angry expression with soft kisses, nipping at pouted lips until they opened up for his tongue. 

Steve pulled Darcy’s body closer to his own. Partially, to make sure she was secure against him as he teased her with light kisses. Partially, just because she felt so damn good in his arms.

Steve hunted for the taste of chamomile along her tongue, sipping pleasure from her lips the way Darcy drank from her mug only minutes ago. A gentle exploration for a gentle night. He didn’t relent until the woman he held went boneless in his arms. Only then, did he pull back from gentle exploration to stare at the treasure in his arms.

Darcy’s eyes were closed in honest pleasure, face lax and sweet in the astronomical twilight beginning to fill the air around them. The nearly gone lipstick darkened her supple lips to the color of ripe strawberries. The eyeliner was a messy smear around her eyes, but Steve could find her nothing but achingly beautiful.

Steve used his fingers to tease at the edge of her lace panties, focused on the sensation of her soft chest rising and falling against his own. He luxuriated in the feel of her groin pressed to his own, the warmth between them syrupy.

Steve bent his face down once more, to dabbed small kisses to her lips, along her neck, to the tip of her nose. Steve stopped peppering kisses to her face when Darcy opened her eyes once more.

“Cuddle Steve naked,” Darcy bargained, her voice had gone breathy. “Then bed?”

Steve smiled at her, heart in his throat, and nodded. He rearranged them, so Darcy’s weight was supported by his left arm under her. Her legs tightened around him, thighs firm against his hips.

“Let me take care of you tonight, doll,” Steve said, free hand supporting the back of her neck, fingers teasing the base of her skull once more. He used that hand to bring her face to his, and consumed her delicately.

Steve carried Darcy back to the living room, walking slowly but confidently around the obstacles his brain had already mapped out subconsciously. Perks of being a supersoldier.

As he walked them through the space, Steve started to use the arm under Darcy to rub her up and down his hard length. The motion wasn't about teasing himself, though the feeling was very much appreciated. Rather, Steve delighted in the small moans Darcy pressed into his mouth every time his length drove the lace of her panties over her most sensitive parts. 

Darcy’s brain was mush from the lack of sleep, but the gentle bank and wave of pleasure turned it into warm, hazy mush. She reveled in Steve’s attention.

Steve set Darcy down on the center of the couch, careful to move them both slowly so as not to lose any of the delicious contact between them. Steve pressed their bodies together, trying to get as much skin-to-skin as possible.

Hands free now to explore, Steve traced the curve of her shoulders, trailed fingers across stiff nipples covered by lace, tracing skin everywhere he went. 

“God, you’re so amazing,” Steve whispered into the shell of her throat. Voice deep and honest. Darcy doesn’t get bashful exactly, but did bury her face against his throat. 

“I can’t believe I’m so lucky to land a gal like you,” he breathed the words over her ear, teasing but not quite touching. His hips teased along the skin of her hips. Steve listened to the hitch of Darcy’s breath, subconsciously matching his own breathing to hers.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” Steve promised her in breathy pants. He moved his hands behind Darcy, to unclasp her bra. His fingers lingering at every touch of skin along the way.

“Gunna make you feel good,” he kept up the low murmur, as he pulled the garment hiding his partner from him.

“Stunning,” he promised her, trying to consume the whole of her with his eyes alone. She was alabaster and cream in the darkness of the almost-morning.

“Stevie,” Darcy keened. The word ended in a soft moan, as Steve moved his mouth to lick at her collarbones. Darcy’s moan started low, then went high, when Steve brought his hands up to cup her breasts. Steve poised a thumb over each of her stiff nipples, and teased them in feather-light circles.

Darcy reached out with her small hands to join the action. Steve, reluctantly, removed his hands from her breasts to grip her wrists. Steve brought each of them to his mouth, placing kisses against each pulse point, before settling them against his shoulders.

“Let me take care of you, Darce,” Steve whispered out. 

Darcy’s eyes were wide and blue in the fading-night as she stared at him. Long moments of eye contact lingered between them, before Darcy nodded in understanding. A low-fever built in Steve’s body. Something about pleasuring his partner, without any expectation of return but making them watch Steve work … That did more for Steve than any touch could.

Steve continued his thorough investigation of Darcy, mouth trailing downward. Steve shimmied off the couch, knocking the detritus of discarded clothes out of the way, before coming to his knees before his gal. He brought his mouth up to graze the sides of her breasts, fingers dancing in other places.

Steve’s mouth bypassed her nipples completely. Darcy let out an indignant squeak that had Steve smirking into the skin of her belly. He nipped at the soft skin he found there. 

“Patience, doll,” he spoke to her hip bone. Steve brought his hands up cover the expanse of her back, before moving them down to rest just above the swell of her ass. He works some of the skin over her hip bones into his mouth, and sucks. 

Darcy bit back her moan as Steve gave her a hickey. Steve felt her moan rumble through her body. He loved used his mouth to leave these marks where nobody else could see them. Silent but sensitive, reminding her the next day where he had pleasured her. He moved to the opposite hip, repeating the process there, smirking around the flesh in his mouth.

Steve moved his fingers under the lace of her panties, as Darcy continued to hold back her moans.

“You overwhelm me, doll,” Steve confessed to her, as he moved to divest her of her panties. When she was finally bare before him, his gaze caressed Darcy from head to toe. Taking his time, taking in every detail.

Steve cupped the outside of her thighs in his large hands and buried his face in her warm belly. The blond needed a moment. He fought to ignore the pressure between his legs in favor of the pleasure of the brunette before him.

“Can’t wait to taste you,” Steve said, voice muffled. He pulled Darcy forward on the couch until she was reclined and presented to him in full.

Before Steve leaned in to make good on his promise, he looked up to stare into the eyes staring down at him. Only the smallest sliver of blue could be made out around pupils blown wide by desire. 

Steve maintained that eye contact when he lowered his mouth to Darcy’s folds. Darcy could no longer contain her moans, though they weren't loud, they filled the quiet room. The sound of them was a symphony to Steve as the darkness lost a bit of its depth, and the outside world shifted from twilight to the beginnings of dawn.

Steve’s began licking up and down her folds, hands caressing along from thigh to pelvis bone.

Steve used his tongue to trace against her in steady patterns. He delighted in spelling their names against her vulva. Darcy was a particular fan of ‘S’ that evening, so he stuck to it for several long minutes. Every few cycles, he would press his tongue softly against her clit hood, stimulating the delicate nerves underneath. He would use teeth and the edge of his stubbled jaw to scratch against the delicate skin on the inside of her thighs, to add variety to their pleasure.

Steve used his hands to trail random patterns along her breasts, running the backs of his palms along her nipples. Steve listened to the hitch of her breathing, watched as her eyes dropped heavy, and was delighted. His hands settled on her breasts, fingers slowly moving from feather soft to more serious teasing of the areolas. 

Darcy’s moans were being pulled from her consistently then. Punctuated with little gasps when he did something particularly good with his tongue. Each time, Steve’s dick would pulse and add a spurt of precum against the edge of the couch.

When Darcy’s thighs shook, a clear sign of her building pleasure, Steve knew she was ready for more.

Steve used his tongue more firmly against her core. He moved his hands away from her breasts despite Darcy’s protesting squeaks, and settled them against her thighs. He applied pressure there until she was held down gently, but still open completely before him. He continued to devour her. 

When he hit a motion that caused her to start rocking her pelvis against his mouth, Steve kept at it until Darcy’s thighs started shaking in his palms and around his head. Steve stared up at her heaving chest, ears focused on her open mouthed moans.

When Darcy’s peak hit, her hands plunged into his hair, and she rode his face to completion. Steve held her thighs as she quaked around him, riding her through the end. He had to focus his will not to orgasm just from the sight, sound, and taste of her.

When her hands relaxed their death grip from his head, Steve panted heavily against her entrance. Steve watched Darcy as she came down from the high.

Before she was truly recovered, Steve gave an experimental lick to her. It sent a shock through Darcy’s body that looked almost painful. He waited several more seconds as the jolt passed, before repeating the motion. Darcy’s eyes snapped open, meeting Steve’s gaze, as her body convulsed again in stimulation. Their eyes locked together. 

Steve repeated the motion a third time, and the reaction was less sharp but no less good. So, he did it once more. And then again. And again.

“I want you to come on my mouth again,” Steve whispered to her, as licked her sensitive pussy in long strokes like he was savoring some rare treat. The licks lit Darcy up from inside out, like the first rays of dawn that were coming into the living room from outside. 

Darcy stared at Steve kneeling before her. Steve’s face was worshipful, cheeks and lips damp with spit and her own fluids. She didn’t have the will to deny him anything in that moment, not even her own pleasure. Darcy simply nodded.

Steve was gentle with her, but his hunger was obvious. He moved faster this round than he had at the start of the previous. Steve was hungry, desperate to see her peak again.

The pleasure this time was more acute in Darcy’s belly. Each pass of tongue sizzling. The climb thankfully faster, as sensitive nerves were already poised to fire. 

Several long minutes of action, and Darcy was climbing steadily towards another orgasm. She grabbed Steve by the hair again, and held on. Not impeding his motion, just needing something to ground her through the swell of pleasure. His grip on her thighs felt oh-so-good to Darcy, baring her open and keeping her secure.

The sensation built and built and built. Darcy hovered along the precipice for a few short minutes.

Some spasm passed through Darcy, causing her to pull on Steve’s hair clenched in her fists. Shivers racked through Steve's body. He began moaning, low and insistently, directly into her pussy. It was exactly what Darcy needed.

Darcy came, clenching and clutching. She lost her sense of everything but the pleasure. Darcy wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought she might have chanted Steve’s name at the end there too.

It took several deep breaths before Darcy regained her sense of self. She released Steve’s hair from her white-knuckled grip, but moved her hands into petting the man’s hair gently. He was panting, body supported by the couch, face mashed into her thigh. His breaths were hot and deep against the juncture where her thigh and groin met. 

“If you give me a minute,” Darcy’s voice was croaky from moaning. Her wrecked voice sent shivers down Steve's spine. Steve licked his lips, savoring the smell and taste of her. “I can return the favor, Stevie.”

“Doll, I came all over the couch already,” Steve admitted, chuckling against her.

Darcy hmm-ed at the declaration, and continued petting his hair languidly as she caught her breath. Her blinks grew longer and longer between each breath, until her eyes closed down for business. 

Darcy felt Steve scoop her up into his big arms, though her eyes refused to open again. She wiggled into his warmth. 

“Cuddles?” She thought she might have inquired into his neck.

“Of course, doll,” she thought she heard Steve say, as he pressed soft kisses against her face and carried her off into the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Some warnings:  
> -Open/Negotiated Relationship: The background pairing is Darcy/Steve. I intended to write this as a threesome fic, with Steve and Darcy inviting Matt in as a Friends w/ Benefits situation. But Steve/Matt was begging to be its own chapter. Also, I wouldn't be mad if you read this as the beginnings of a true throuple. I intend to add some Darcy/Steve/Matt in the future. Kudo/Comment if you'd like to see that.  
> -Violence Warning: The violence here is canon typical graphic, and intended to be a friendly sparring match between two superheroes. That being said, the fight is loaded with sexual tension and serves as flirting and foreplay between the two characters. If that does not do it for you or could potentially trigger you, please skip this fic.  
> -Unsafe Sex: The two characters engage in unprotected sex. I handwave it away as supersoldier's don't get STDs, but proceed with caution if that isn't your thing.  
> -Unrealistic sex (not a warning just a side note): I always thought scenes where there's no lube, preparation/shower before anal, etc., was so dumb. But I get it now. Its hard to get it realistic and still be fun to write. I will try in the future though! Let me know your thoughts.
> 
> The first chapter is partially inspired by a gif that I always thought looked a bit like Charlie Cox (aka Matthew Murdock).
> 
> See here if interested (VERY NSFW!):  
> https://101hotguys.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/ride_that_pony_06.gif


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